


Harry Potter and The Crimson Stone

by TheHollowOne104



Series: The Boy Who Lived [1]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Book 1: Harry Potter and the Philosopher's Stone, Canon-Typical Violence, Everyone has magic, Gen, Good Dudley Dursley, Good Dursley Family (Harry Potter), Good Petunia Evans Dursley, Good Vernon Dursley, Magical Dudley Dursley, No muggles, Not Beta Read, Not Canon Compliant, Or On his Way to Being Smart, Pre-Slash, Probably ooc, Quirrell will Die, Ravenclaw Harry Potter, Rewrite of Harry Potter, Slytherin Hermione Granger, Smart Harry Potter
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-02-12
Updated: 2021-02-11
Packaged: 2021-03-18 12:01:57
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 12,085
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29368191
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheHollowOne104/pseuds/TheHollowOne104
Summary: The Founders found a way to give everyone access to the spark that lets people use magic. Voldemort still comes into power, Harry Potter still defeats him as a baby. This time, Harry is raised by an Aunt and Uncle who are not afraid of magic, has a cousin he is friendly with. This doesn't eliminate the threat from Voldemort, but it does change the playing field.
Series: The Boy Who Lived [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2157276
Kudos: 13





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Welcome to the fic everyone! Everything you can recognize is from JRK. As it stands, this will deviate in big ways from canon. This story will have slash and femslash in the future, so if you don't like that, this fic might not be for you. I hope y'all enjoy though, I certainly enjoyed writing it.

The Dursley family of Number Four Privet drive had been in hiding long before they'd purchased the house. Vernon Dursley, a proud, Hogwarts graduate, from Slytherin house, had spent years warding the property to the best of his ability alongside his wife, Petunia, also sorted into Slytherin. Even before they’d graduated, there had been signs for those who knew how to see them; a number Vernon proudly took his place among, alongside his wife, his sister-in-law, her husband, and everyone in Dumbledore’s Order. His last two years at Hogwarts were spent less on homework, and more on defensive spells. They and their newborn son, Dudley, rarely went outside, accepted mail exclusively from owls they knew, and never let their wands leave their hands. 

Despite the constant state of fear, Vernon recognized how lucky they were. They never wanted for food or shelter unlike many unlucky souls. Vernon had never had to turn his wand against another wizard. Lily and James hadn’t been so lucky. They were far braver than Vernon and Petunia though. For years wizarding kind had been terrorized by a madman calling himself Voldemort, until one chilly autumn day. 

Vernon left the house early to buy food. He pulled his robes close as he walked, eyes darting to corners, abandoned houses, and shadows the rising sun hadn’t yet uncovered. He and Petunia had held ministry jobs until Voldemort's influence had spread through their Ministry entirely, the man was minister in all but name Vernon had said, but they had built up a good savings in the meantime. The savings wouldn’t last forever though, especially with a child, and he didn’t know what they’d do after. Vernon paused when he saw multiple owls circling overhead. 

He’d heard rumors that the Death Eaters would send owls to location they were planning to attack. He doubted the validity of the rumors, but it was better safe than sorry. His son could be left fatherless in two short words, after all. With a flick of his wand Vernon cast a silent disillusionment charm. 

He only paused when he spotted a cat reading a map. Or- well- looking at a map. Most cats couldn't read maps. This one looked strikingly familiar, but no, she wouldn't be here. She’d be with Dumbledore and his damned order.

Vernon paused to look at the cat a tad closer. To his surprise it set him with an unimpressed look. Vernon wondered, for a moment, if it could see him. He'd never been sure if the disillusionment charm worked on animals, it had never worked on Filch’s fleabag. He’d wanted something a bit stronger for the Death Eaters who could turn into them, but books on magic were scarce these days.

To his surprise the cat followed him. Or perhaps, it followed the sound of his footsteps? It was unsettling. Regardless, Vernon paid it as little attention as he could. Paranoia wouldn’t feed a crying infant. That didn’t stop him from watching the cat until he rounded the corner onto the main street and nearly walked into a group of wizards laughing merrily to themselves. 

Vernon froze mid-step. His wand was in hand, raised to the head of the nearest man before he could think. The men wore bright, eye-offending, cloaks unlike the Death Eater's black. Not that their attire meant anything. Voldemort could control people’s minds, anyone could be an enemy. They didn’t seem to notice him though. Vernon paused, unseen, at the edge of the group, listening in on them.At the least, they could give him some news of the outside world. 

"Most wonderful news isn't it-!" One man rejoiced. 

"Haven't had a reason to celebrate in so long-." Another cut in. 

"But the poor Potters-." 

"The who?" Vernon asked, the charm falling from his person. The three jumped. A trio of wands pointed at Vernom who ignored them completely. "Who did you just mention? It can't be who I thought it was." 

"Wands down you Ninnies," Minerva McGonagall called from behind them. The three men slowly put their wands down. Vernon slowly turned to face his old professor. She looked at him, narrowing her lips while Vernon tried to remember when they'd last gotten word from Lily and James. It couldn't have been more than a week ago.

“Come with me, Mr. Dursley," McGonagall said, walking back towards the house without another word. Vernon paused, gripping his wand tightly. 

"What was the pattern left on Malfoy’s skin when I fumbled my sixth year transfiguration exam," he called. McGonagall paused. 

"Peacock feathers." Vernon nodded, relaxing.

"Not going to ask me something?" He called after her, jogging to catch up. McGonagall sniffed.

"I know you are Vernon Dursley by scent, I was a cat not long ago," she explained. So it had been her! Vernon followed her. 

"Professor McGonagall," Vernon said, after the group of wizards vanished with three small pops. "The Potters are ok? Aren't they?" 

Professor McGonagall didn't answer, pointedly. If they were all fine and dandy, McGonagall would have said so. She wouldn't. She was an upfront sort of witch, like his wife. He couldn't imagine the Potters being compromised though. Dumbledore himself had warded their house, and Black-.

"Wait in your house," Professor McGonagall said, interrupting his train of thought. A chill coursed through him, the kind only dementors and powerful fear could create. 

"I need to go to the store. Dudley, our son, needs food," Vernon explained. McGonagall nodded, motioning for him to calm himself. 

"Your family is in danger. Professor Dumbledore will be by to explain later. I'll go buy what you need, should you be so kind as to provide me a list." 

"My family is-." 

"The list, Mr. Dursley," McGonagall said. Vernon handed it to her and she vanished with a pop. Vernon stood trying to take everything in for a moment before slipping inside the house. 

"Vernon?" Petunia called. Dudley was crying in the next room over. Vernon followed his son's wails and found the pair in the dining room Dudley covered in baby food and Petunia trying to clean it off. His breathing picked, his family was in danger, the Potters… Petunia stood and strode to his side. 

"Vernon? What happened?" She asked, her fingers tightening around his upper arm.

"McGonagall said we're in danger. She'll be back with groceries soon,” Vernon said. 

“McGonagall showed up? Professor McGonagall” She asked. 

“Never mind that! Have you heard from the Potters?” Vernon asked. Petunia shifted, her eyes wide and her mouth open. 

The only sound came from Dudley’s wailing. Vernon picked up his son and began cleaning him methodically. Dudley calmed down as the sticky stuff was removed from his face, looking at his father with a wide smile. 

“Not in the last four days, I think their last owl came five days ago,” She said. Petunia’s hand shook as she steadied herself on the table. “Our owl came back without a letter, so they got our response. So maybe three days?” 

A soft pop made both Petunia and Vernon jump while Dudley happily babbled and attempted to grab his father’s nose. Petunia marched to the doorway and threw it open, pointing her wand at whoever stood at the edge of their yard. Through the window Vernon saw McGonagall striding across the yard in a flurry of emerald green robes and plastic bags. His grip on his son’s small, fragile feeling body, tightened. 

“What gift did I give Lily during her babyshower?” Petunia asked. McGonagall paused, before answering. 

“A stuffed doe and stag that messages could be recorded on,” She said, her voice soft. Petunia lowered her wand. 

“What did I give her?” 

“A blanket that would always keep the baby at a safe temperature,” Petunia said.

McGonagall nodded, entering the house. As soon as she saw Dudley, McGonagall smiled in the way Vernon had only seen once or twice in class. Petunia had always been the apple of the Professor’s eyes. He could remember how many people thought Petunia could do better than him, never mind what people thought of Lily settling down with James. Vernon had never failed, in fact he’d exceeded many’s expectations, but he was never the best student. 

“He’s grown well,” McGonagall said, putting the bags on the table. “He’ll take after his father in looks, I believe.” 

“In temperament too,” Petunia said with a shaky laugh. 

“Dumbledore will arrive after dark. I’m sorry, I can’t say anything until he gets here. I don’t know anything in detail, and I won’t until then. Please stay inside as much as you can.” 

“What is threatening our family? Have the Death Eaters found us?” Vernon asked, putting his son in his high chair. He didn’t want Dudley to hear this, though he would never be able to understand it. 

“We don’t think so,” McGonagall told them. “But you can never be too safe with regards to the times we live in.” 

Vernon found himself spending most of his evening sitting on the porch, watching the people on the street. He rolled his wand between his fingers. There weren’t many people. Everyone who did go out was celebrating, not noticing the weary eyes following their every move. Vernon and Petunia had set up the wards around the house when they’d bought it, he was sure no one could see him.

He couldn’t bring himself to go inside, Petunia stood in the window, eyes on the streets; so he wasn’t alone. The owls hadn’t left the sky either. Insane words occasionally drifted from passerby’s lips. Things like Voldemort being gone. The idea that his wife and baby boy were in more danger than usual made him want to curse something, and these madmen were beginning to look like appealing targets. It was a testament to his respect to McGonagall that he didn’t.

Once the sun set he got to his feet, squinty his beady eyes to catch even a flicker of movement on the empty street. These days no one went out past dark. Not even madmen. Dumbledore went beyond madmen though. Vernon caught what he was looking for, a tall man in violet robes appearing in the middle of the street with a soft pop. 

“Petunia!” Vernon barked. “He’s here!”

He paid no mind to the frantic crashing he heard in the house, nor the front door being wretched open and his wife coming to his side. Dumbledore strode toward the house he knew the location of, even if he couldn’t see nor sense it. There were no shields Vernon nor Petunia capable of hiding them from Albus Dumbledore. A tabby cat joined him, before turning into a familiar witch. 

“Mr. and Mrs. Dursley,” Dumbledore said, crossing the the shields. He smiled at them, his eyes twinkling as he took the pair in. 

“Professor, what’s happened?” Petunia asked. 

“He’s gone,” Dumbledore said. The crickets played a song that was only barely louder than the beating of Vernon’s heart. 

“What?” 

“Voldemort-.” Dumbledore paused so they all could wince. Vernon may use the name in his head, but he wasn’t foolish enough to use it aloud. “Is gone. In the process Lily and   
James’ lives were taken and their son was left alive in the rubble of their house.”

“Oh no. Lily. Harry,” Petunia whispered. She fell to her knees, sobbing. Vernon did his best to hold his wife, but he’d never been the comforting type. They both knew that, so he did what he did best. 

“Where’s Harry now?” 

Dumbledore held out the small lumpy thing that squirmed slightly in his arms. Vernon didn’t need to see it fully to know what it was. He’d seen his son squirming enough to know what a baby boy looked like. Professor McGonagall let out a sharp whimper, her eyes wet with unshed tears. Petunia took Harry’s small form in her arms, her tears landing on his cheeks. 

“Black?” She asked. 

“In the custody of the Aurors,” Dumbledore said, his voice grave. “It seems he turned out no better than the rest of his family.”

“The bastard,” Petunia spat. “How dare he?” 

“Pet,” Vernon said, putting a comforting hand on her shoulder. He didn’t know Sirius Black well, he’d always been James’ friend. It was hard to imagine the man who could have lit James and Lily’s wedding with his smile alone plotting murder. 

“What’s this?” Petunia asked, running her hand along her nephew’s forehead. Vernon knelt down next to her, there was a mark on the boy’s forehead that hadn’t been there in all the photos he’d seen of the boy. It looked a bit like lightening. 

“The last piece of Voldemort's magic,” Dumbledore began giving another moment for them to wince. “ever did. What happened will be left between them, I believe. None of the healers could remove it.” 

“Do you think he’s dead?” Petunia asked. Dumbledore took his time responding, killing Vernon’s hope that it was a yes. 

“I don’t know.”

“Do you have any idea what happened? How he could have gotten this?” Vernon asked, indicated the scar. 

“Only theories, each more absurd than the last,” Dumbledore said, eyes never leaving the boy’s face. “No, I think what happened will for now, stay between Harry and Voldemort. 

“He’ll need to be ready someday, won’t he?” Petunia asked. Vernon had never heard her tone so cold. 

“Let him be a child,” Dumbledore ordered. “Harry Potter is first and foremost, a boy. Keep him safe though, there are many wizards who would like his head, keep out of the press as much as you can at the least.” 

“What do you take us for?” Vernon asked. “We’re not going to sell a baby to reporters.” 

“I did not intend to imply this Mr. Dursley,” Dumbledore said, making Vernon feel much like a scolded eleven year old again. “Raise him as you will your son. No matter what   
comes for him in the future, let him have a happy childhood.” 

“We would do no less,” Petunia said, standing with the child. Vernon nodded, taking a step back to stand next to his wife. 

“Then I wish you nothing but the best of luck,” Dumbledore said, running a long finger along the baby’s cheek. “Harry Potter.”


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Time to meet Harry himself!

The Dursley family house had changed almost as much as the family in nearly ten years. For one thing, the family no longer lived on Number Four Privet Dr. Instead the family resided in a large house in the countryside. There was space enough for both a small Quidditch pitch and two greenhouses in the yard alone. Anyone looking in would say the family had done quite well for themselves, and in a way, You-Know-Who had been beneficial to their success.

After their nephew had been placed into their care, Petunia and Vernon, especially Petunia, threw themselves into researching wards to learn how to keep their new charge and son safe. Vernon, seeing an opportunity to give the family prestige, began advertising himself at the ministry and his wife as ward markers. When Petunia pulled herself out of years of study, she found herself and Vernon making quite a bit of gold from their research, much of it coming from people who were afraid of the Death Eaters who hadn’t been put in prison. 

The mantel was covered in photos of a happy looking family, a blond man and woman with a blond son and a dark haired boy with glasses who stuck out, but looked no less a part of the family. The several of the photos showed Petunia accepting awards for her work in wards, charms, and transfiguration, and Vernon’s photos of Dursley Wards and Charm’s growth over the years. Most had the two boys in Quidditch gear from Junior leagues, the blond boy with a beater’s bat over his shoulder.The black haired boy often held a small, golden, ball with a smile. 

Within the Manor, upstairs in the third room to the right, Harry Potter slept peacefully.He dreamed of a man with long hair and a flying motorcycle. Something odd happened then, his dreams took an uncommon turn, the sound of a different man’s begging filled a dark space, a feeling like he were passing through something, and a scream, a high cool laugh Harry knew from previous dreams.Dreams that only came after healers messed too much with his scar.

The sound of a thundering knock at his door woke Harry.His half-awake mind brought the man’s screams through Harry’s lips. Aunt Petunia stuck her long neck in, her eyes wide. Harry was on his feet, looking about the room before realizing he had been dreaming. 

“Harry?” She asked. Harry jumped a bit, reminded that he was not alone in the room. Aunt Petunia eased the door open, leaning against the frame, worry tightening the lines of her face. 

“Dream again,” Harry muttered, pushing his hair out of his face. He glanced out the window and saw that the sun had risen. “Want help with breakfast? Is Dudley up yet?” 

“I would, thank you. He’ll be awake soon enough, soon as we get the bacon going,” Petunia said, stepping aside to let Harry through. “The dream with the green light?” 

“No, it had the same laughing guy though. Something about different guy, like I was passing through him or something, I don’t know.” 

“Oh Harry…”

“It’s alright,” Harry said, not wanting to see the look she always got when he mentioned the dreams to her. Everyone said it was important she or Uncle Vernon know if he had odd dreams though. ”Like you and Uncle Vernon say, it’s just a dream. Not worth paying mind in the waking world.”

“Well, do you want to start on the eggs?” Petunia asked. Her tone told Harry she wouldn’t be forgetting the incident anytime soon. Nevertheless Harry nodded. 

It was Dudley’s eleventh birthday, which meant it was one of the most special, important days in a wizard’s life. Harry didn’t want to spend the day dwelling on dreams. The only thing allowed to ruin this morning was jealousy that Harry wouldn’t be getting his letter as soon as Dudley. He had another few months before he would be receiving his Hogwarts letter. 

His Aunt and Uncle insisting on taking them separately, insisting the shopping be a special day. Their birthday parties, which had always been on the day, where they’d hung out with friends and got gifts, had been celebrated a week before the actual date of Dudley’s birth. Just to dedicate the day to getting their school supplies. The early birthday party would normally have been more than welcome. It only made Harry more excited for his actual birthday though.

As Aunt Petunia said, the moment the sound of bacon sizzling hit the air, Harry heard his cousin’s footsteps like thunder over his head. He snickered at her, Petunia shot him a wry smirk and wink. Dudley appeared in the doorway, hair a mess, and eyes still hazy with sleep. He collapsed into his seat, close to falling back asleep.Upstairs, Harry heard Uncle Vernon taking his time getting ready, evidently having been woken by the bacon as well. 

“Good morning Dudders,” Petunia said, running a hand through his hair. Dudley hummed and took his place at the table. 

“Morning,” Harry called over, finishing up the eggs and plating them. He joined Dudley at the table after, amusing himself with watching his cousin slowly being brought back to earth by sausage and apple juice. 

“When do you think it’ll be here?” Dudley asked, through a mouthful of sausage. Harry smiled at his Uncle when he lumbered into the room, looking far more awake than anyone had any right being in the morning. 

“Dudley patience is a virtue. Powerful spells aren’t done in days, as they say,” He said, chuckling at his own joke. Harry wasn’t sure who said that, seeing as he’d never heard it, and he’d heard adults say some very strange things. 

“Morning dear,” Petunia said, kissing Vernon on the cheek before joining everyone at the table with a plate of bacon. 

“Patience can be a virtue when I have my letter,” Dudley muttered, stabbing one of his eggs a tad too aggressively. 

“Soon dear,” Aunt Petunia said. “We won’t be going to get your things until after work today. Speaking of, Harry, how would you like spending the night at the Weasley’s house? I’m not sure how late we’ll be home.” 

“Really?” Harry asked, sitting a bit straighter. 

“Of course, we’re not going to leave you alone here and come back to find the house a crater,” Uncle Vernon said, chuckling to himself through a fork full of eggs. 

“I’m not going to blow up the house,” Harry muttered. Dudley shot him a look that said they both knew Harry was lying. He did have a habit of trying to make spells work without a wand when no one was looking, but that was normal. Hermione did it too.

“Sure you aren’t,” Dudley said. Harry heard the letterbox click open. Dudley was on his feet and down the hall faster than Harry had ever seen him move.

“I GOT IT!” Dudley yelled. He ran back to show them the letter. He paused to give Harry a snarky look. “I’m afraid to tell you you’ve read everything on the list though-.” 

“Oh come on Dud, just because you can’t read-.” 

“Oh come now boys,” Uncle Vernon said, getting to his feet. “It’s about time we go to work. Dudley, why not bring your letter along to show your friends.” 

“Their names are Ron and Hermione,” Dudley muttered. Uncle Vernon nodded, a serious look on his face. 

“Right, good ol’ Rom and Hermy,” He said, taking far too much pleasure in the way Harry and Dudley’s faces twisted in disgust. 

The cooperation Petunia and Vernon ran was in Diagon Alley near Gringotts. Every single time they went there, Harry had to deal with people paying more attention to him than he felt he was due. People waved. They smiled. Many tried to shake his hand. All wanted to see his scar.

Over and over throughout his childhood Harry had been told how he’d managed to defeat one of the most powerful and terrifying wizards in the world when he was only a baby. It wasn’t like Harry knew how, or had any answers his Aunt and Uncle didn’t, but everyone seemed to think he was special. That night was the reason his forehead bore a scar in the shape of a lightning bolt, it was the reason he lived with the Dursley’s, but most of all it was the reason he had no parents. 

When he’d gotten nightmares about a laughing man and green light as a child, Aunt Petunia had stayed up with him, telling him stories of her time at Hogwarts with Lily. How brave and confident she’d been, how she’s passed her classes, but most importantly, how proud she would have been of Harry. Everytime Aunt Petunia found him with the remnants of whatever spell or potion he’d been trying to make work, she’d always smile and say ‘that’s Lily’s boy for you’. Harry loved hearing about her to be sure, but he’d have rather had his mum see it. 

“Harry! Dudley!” Ron called over as soon as the pair stepped into the building. 

There was a section of the company set aside for child care, as many of the people who worked there were single parents thanks to You-Know-Who’s reign. Harry and Dudley had known Ron since they were all in diapers, and trying to avoid Ron’s older twin brothers’ pranks before they could walk properly. 

“I got my letter!” Dudley called over, presenting the thick envelope. Ron grinned at him. 

“Wicked, going to get your stuff soon then? Know what kind of a pet you think you’ll be getting?” Ron asked. Dudley shrugged. 

“We agreed I’d be getting an owl,” Harry said. He and Dudley had bet it on a Quidditch game last year in one of their Junior leagues, Harry’s team won seven to three. Dudley had not been happy that day. 

“Why? So he can eat Scabbers?” Ron asked, pulling the old rat out of his pocket with a glare. 

Scabbers had never liked Harry. The rat had eaten through Harry’s schoolwork, bitten him, and overall seemed to have it out for him. It was a running joke in the trio that Scabbers had been Harry’s arch enemy in a past life. Harry figured he might have been too rough with Scabbers as a kid and the rat just knew how to hold a grudge. Thankfully the rat was asleep now, but Harry was sure the glee on its rat-face was from a dream about biting Harry or something equally heinous.

“Let’s go find Hermione,” Dudley said. “I want to show her my letter too. Has she gotten her’s yet?” 

Hermione was a girl whose parents worked for St. Mungo’s. The three had met her, well, tripped over her sitting by the Ice Cream Parlor, face buried in a thick volume about medicinal magic. She’d quickly become a friend of the group, as she often had little to do but read while her parents spent the day fixing people’s teeth. She and Harry bonded over their magical experiments while Ron and Dudley tried and failed to tell them why that was a bad idea. 

“No, I think anyways,” Ron said. “I think her birthday is in September, so I think her letter will go out around the same time as Harry’s.” 

“Ron, Aunt Petunia said I’ll be staying over at your house tonight,” Harry said, following the taller boys as they walked back out onto the streets. 

“Wicked!” Ron said. His face split into a wide grin, his eyes lighting up at the prospect. “We can try and get back at Fred and George for turning all my shirts green and making them smell like bog water.” 

“How’d they do that?” Dudley asked. Ron shrugged, scrunching up his nose at the smell of something in the apothecary. 

“No idea. It’s why they’re not here though. Mom and Dad haven’t figured out how to reverse it yet, and until they do the twins will be scrubbing every corner of the house.”

“Amazing,” Dudley said. “I think they should have Harry clean everything when he shrinks all my robes trying some spell.” 

“Hey!” Harry said. 

“You’re going to Hogwarts too? Right?” Ron asked. The trio stepped onto the street. Thankfully, the reporters had long learned to stay away from Harry or they’d have an angry Dudley threatening them with legal words he didn’t know the meaning of, but managed to scare them off. 

“Of course,” Dudley said. “Well, I got accepted a few other places, Mom and Dad wanted us to see the others schools a bit to be sure we wanted to go to Hogwarts.” 

“Everyone goes to Hogwarts,” Ron muttered. “Mad they are, thinking you would get on as well anywhere else.” 

“It’s there, if I decide I want to transfer or something. As long as I keep my grades up,” Dudley said. “There she is!”

“Hermione,” Ron called. A bushy haired girl popped to her feet like an overexcited gopher. 

“Guys! Dudley did you get your letter today?” She asked, jogging over to them with a book that looked like it weighed twice as much as Dudley. It had to have a lightening charm  
on it.

“I did!” Dudley said, beaming as he handed it over. Hermione read it over in moments. 

“I’m so jealous! My parents won’t take me to get my things until I’ve gotten mine,” She said. 

“You’ve already read all these books,” Ron said. “Come on, let’s go get some ice cream.” 

“Why? It isn’t that warm out,” Hermione said. 

“Because we’re celebrating me getting into Hogwarts,” Dudley explained. “Come on. Let’s go stuff our faces.” 

Harry spent the evening at the Weasley’s house and was trying his best to have a good time. It was harder than he’d expected. Harry couldn’t help but wonder what Dudley was buying. Did he have his wand yet? After dinner he made himself useful, helping Ron and Percy gnome the garden, Fred and George had been sent to their rooms early, as poor Ginny’s clothes still smelled horribly like bog water. It wasn’t long before he got separated from them, and ended up wandering the Weasley’s large yard. 

He loved the Weasleys dearly, but he also liked being alone. It helped him think. He promised himself he would be the perfect child toward the family when he was done thinking. Most of Harry’s thoughts were with Dudley, his Aunt, and Uncle. Was it jealousy that coursed through Harry’s veins, or was he worried that it wasn’t everything he and Dudley had been told it would be?

“Don’t come any closer!” A sharp hiss called. Harry froze, not recognizing the voice. 

“Hello?” He called out to the growing darkness before him. There was no one there, empty miles of field for miles all around, save for the Weasley’s house. He took a step back. 

“Yes, back away,” The voice said. 

Harry located the source of the sound, a small snake with it’s back arched. Harry’s shoulders hitched and he took a step back. It was happening again. Why? He’d thought the last time would be it, why did snakes keep talking to him? Harry turned and raced back to the Weasley family’s house, his head spinning with worry.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Harry gets his supplies!

The next several months were best described as: normality tinted with nervous anticipation. Harry knew his letter was on its way, but seeing Dudley parade his new wand and robes around the house, reading his textbooks more than Harry had ever seen his cousin read before, made him twitchy. It had been the cause of more than one silent argument. On the upside Harry had picked up a few new Quidditch moves. Dudley would never see them coming.

Before Harry could begin his schooling at Hogwarts, his primary schooling ended. The school year ended with snacks, no assignments for a few months, and freedom they’d never known before most of the kids spent their last day fussing with each other about which schools of magical they would be attending until their NEWTs.  
Dudley spent the day with his friend group, including a weasle-looking boy called Piers who was going to Durmstrang. Most of the students were going to Hogwarts, including two boys Harry knew fairly well, Theo Nott, and Terry Boot. 

All it did was build anticipation for Harry’s letter. He got to hear about kids who’d already gotten them. Harry bit it down knowing his letter would be coming quickly. Frankly, he shouldn’t be so twitchy about it. He knew his letter would be here soon. The anticipation was beginning to make Harry fell like a tightened spring though.

When Harry woke, he’d completely forgotten that it was his birthday. In his defense, it was no different than any other summer day. He got dressed, and halfway between slipping into his robes it hit Harry that he was eleven. After an attempt to make himself look dignified through the excitement that was a failure, Harry walked downstairs. The grins on the Dursley’s family’s faces made any attempt at hiding his own joy impossible. 

“Happy Birthday Harry,” Aunt Petunia said, standing and giving Harry a squeeze as he went to sit. She ran a hand through his hair, messing it up more than usual. 

The food was some of the best Harry had ever had, but he watched the time ticking rather than tasting it. Any minute now. The owls always brought their mail about this time. What if they were late? Harry heard something papery being thrust through the letter box where the owls always tossed the mail. He tried to pretend he hadn’t heard, paying attention to his waffles instead. He didn’t want to look too excited, or Dudley would never let him hear the end of him ‘bouncing around like a drunk hippogryff’. 

“Dudley, go get the mail,” Uncle Vernon ordered. 

“Make Harry get it,” Dudley said, looking at Harry with a grin that made him look like a drunk horse. 

“Harry, go get the mail,” Uncle Vernon said. Harry decided to be smart with them. 

“Make Dudley get it.” 

“Poke him with your fork Dudley,” Uncle Vernon said, having had enough of them. Harry dodged the poke masterfully, and shot a cocky grin at his cousin. He gave the Owl some oats and a pet and it went on its way. 

“Did you get a letter?” Uncle Vernon asked, feigning innocence. Harry handed his Uncle his mail, keeping a thick envelope for himself. 

“It seems I did,” Harry said, opening the letter slowly, and looking at his Hogwarts Acceptance letter. It was real. He was holding it. He, Harry Potter, was going to Hogwarts.

“Well, I guess we have to go get your things today,” Aunt Petunia said. “We don’t have work, so we’ll be home soon.” 

“May I fly while you’re gone?” Dudley asked. Uncle Vernon nodded, thumping Dudley on the back while Aunt Petunia sighed at her son. 

“So long as you don’t do anything too risky, I know you know what you’re doing,” Uncle Vernon said. 

“Why don’t you get ahead on your school readings?” Aunt Petunia asked. Dudley groaned, Harry knew the excitement of looking over his textbooks would wear off soon for Dudley, but this must have been a new record even for him.

“I’ve been reading!” 

“Alright,” Aunt Petunia said. Uncle Vernon smacked Dudley on the back twice, proud smile on his face. “Come on Harry, we have a busy day ahead of us.” 

After stepping out of the floo at the Leaky Cauldron Harry was greeted by the usual mob. It had calmed down greatly over the years, Harry remembered his younger days where all the adults would crowd round his Aunt and Uncle demanding a chance to hold him. 

As the Dursleys fought their way through, Harry noticed Professor Quirrell sitting on his own, wearing a new turban, deeply engrossed in a book about rare magical objects. Harry liked Professor Quirrell, he’d always been polite, but the excitement of getting his supplies made him ignore the man.

The first stop was Gringotts. Harry was happy to note it was fast. Gringotts was always boring, the goblins didn’t like kids and talked about money in terms Harry couldn’t understand. Harry had an inheritance from his parents, but Aunt Petunia and Uncle Vernon insisted on paying for him while he was underage. On the way out, Harry saw another Hogwarts Staff member who was much harder to miss. 

“Hagrid!” He called over to the giant. Hagrid turned, his black beady eye on the trio. 

“Harry!” He said, marching over to the group. 

Petunia and Vernon smiled respectfully at him, they hadn’t known the Keeper of Grounds and Keys at Hogwarts as well as Lily or James, but they were always polite. Hagrid loved seeing Harry, never missing a chance to attend his birthday parties or bring Harry for rides on his flying motorcycle, with his Aunt and Uncle’s approval of course and never without a helmet. 

“What’re you doing here?” Harry asked. Hagrid rarely left the Hogwarts grounds from what he knew. 

“I’m on business for Hogwarts,” Hagrid said, patting the pocket of his coat. “What about you? Gettin’ yer stuff for school?” 

“Yeah,” Harry said, rolling from his heel to his toes. 

“I outta let you get to it then. See you at Hogwarts!” Hagrid said, smiling at Harry and turning to walk back out onto the street. By the time Harry, his Aunt, and Uncle followed him Hagrid had vanished. 

“Let’s go do your robes first,” Aunt Petunia said. Harry’s disappointment must have shown on his face, because she scoffed at him. 

“Harry, you want to get the most boring bits out of the way first,” Uncle Vernon said. “Then you end off on the exciting stuff.” 

“Oh,” Harry said, brightening a bit. Uncle Vernon said that almost once a week, often to make Harry and Dudley finish their homework before going out flying. 

Madam Malkins smiled as Dursley family walked in. Without the need for words, she pushed Harry towards a stool. It was time to have his measurements taken. Harry was half sure Madam Malkins had some spell to make minutes stretch into hours when you got measured by her.

There was another boy there, a blond boy Harry thought he’d seen somewhere before. He had pale, pointed features, something about him reminded Harry of Theo, perhaps the way they held themselves. He stared at at the boy for a long moment, trying to figure out where he knew the blond from.

“Hogwarts too?” The boy asked, noticing he held Harry’s attention. Harry nodded. 

“Yeah, this is the first stop in getting my supplies.” 

“Is that so? After this I’m going to go look at wands, then maybe I’ll bully my parents into looking at racing brooms,” the boy said. His voice had a bit of a drawl Harry associated with ministry types. 

“Is that so?” Harry asked. “Will you be bringing your broom to Hogwarts? Would your parents sign on that?” 

First years weren’t allowed on the Quidditch teams, but they could bring their brooms to school to use in extracurricular time. To do so the student needed written permission from their parents, including some proof that the child had been flying beforehand, it also served as permission to get out of flying lessons. Not every family could afford brooms after all, and flying was important to know. Harry and Dudley had been promised they would have permission, but if their grades dropped that permission would be revoked. 

“Of course,” The boy said. “I’m planning on trying out for my house team next year. My dad says if I don’t make the house team it’ll be a crime-.” 

“Oh? Have you been in a Junior league?” Harry asked, guessing he’d seen the boy at pickup games. 

“Oh yeah,” the boy drawled. He looked at Harry closely. “I think I’ve played you. Got a blond cousin?” 

“Yeah, Dudley Dursley,” Harry said. 

“Didn’t know the name, he played beater well though. You played seeker right?” 

“I play seeker and chaser,” Harry said. The boy nodded. 

“I think you were a seeker against me. You both play well. Know what houses you’ll be in?” 

“I don’t know, my parents were in Gryffindor,” Harry said. “My Cousin had two parents in Slytherin.” 

“Ah, so you’re of good stock,” the boy said. He snickered to himself. “I know I’ll be Slytherin, my whole family has been. Imagine being a Hufflepuff though? I would leave on the spot. I can’t imagine having so little talent that’s the only place you’d fit.” 

“I see,” Harry said, his opinion of the boy dropping with every word. Aunt Petunia and Uncle Vernon always said that so long as Harry and Dudley worked hard they would be happy regardless of their house. 

“I’m Draco Malfoy, by the way, think I forgot to introduce myself,” the boy said. “What’s your-.” 

“You’re done,” the person sizing Harry said. He jumped down from the stool and looked over his shoulder at Draco. 

“See you at school then?” 

“Yeah, see you then.” 

The next stop was the apothecary. Harry had helped Uncle Vernon make several household potions before, so he knew his way around. Filling up his own potion kit made Harry feel bigger somehow though. This wasn’t him helping his Uncle out, but Harry’s own potion kit. He took special care selecting his ingredients, trying to recall everything Uncle Vernon ever said about potion ingredient quality. All the while the man smiled down at him.

“Are you excited to be learning under Professor Snape?” Aunt Petunia asked, her nose wrinkling a little the way they always did when she talked about Snape. Harry nodded. 

Severus Snape had shown up around Harry’s eighth birthday, his gift had won the night however. A photo album with pictures of Harry’s Mom, Dad, and Aunt in school. Professor Snape had been a good friend of Harry’s Mom and had made an effort to visit. He showed Harry how to cut potion ingredients properly, and handed down some of Lily’s old potions notes which he’d kept. That didn’t mean he was a nice man though, and Harry didn’t like being around him more than necessary.

“Alright, time for the bookstore,” Uncle Vernon said, tone full of authority. “Now, we won’t be spending more than an hour in there, alright Harry? And you’ll be getting one gift from each of us so think carefully if you want two of the books here.” 

“I’ll only be getting one,” Harry said, frowning. “I want to use one of my gifts on an owl.” 

“We talked about the Owl, Harry,” Aunt Petunia said slowly. “The gift will be a parting gift from both of us to both of you. So you can both send us letters without needing to use a school owl.” 

“Oh,” Harry said. He’d won the match, and wished they’d let him and Dudley keep to the terms. Harry supposed it made sense though, and he’d always planned on sharing the owl regardless. 

“Well, go to town Harry,” Aunt Petunia said, releasing him into the bookstore. Harry gravitated to the Charms section, grabbing his school book before looking over the shelves hungrily. 

“Harry!” Hermione called over. Harry turned and only just caught sight of a bushy head of hair before she jumped on him. “You need to see this! They got a new shipment of transfiguration books! They’re by Professor McGonagall!” 

“I’m coming! Don’t yank me!” Harry called, though he couldn't bring himself to mind too much. 

“Are you getting your supplies too?” Hermione asked, after both Harry and her picked up a copy of ‘Practical Transfiguration for the Busy Mage’ by Minerva McGonagall. There was simply no passing up a book written by their future professor. Harry flipped to the author page and saw the witch’s stern eyes move over him, a small smile creasing her lips when  
she caught sight of him. 

“Yep,” Harry said. “Got my robes and potion stuff already. I picked only the best supplies of course.” 

“Ah, my Mom let me use her old robes so I didn’t need to buy any. We had to take off the emblem though, since they don’t know if I’ll be in Hufflepuff too.” 

“Ah, yeah I don’t think Uncle Vernon’s old robes would fit me,” Harry said. He was a far skinnier kid than either Uncle Vernon or Dudley were. 

“Yeah, I’m going to get a wand after my potions stuff. We should have a sleep over at your house,” Hermione said. “I want to go over all the books in detail before school starts!”

“Harry, your hours up!” Uncle Vernon called over. Harry glanced at Hermione and then at his Uncle. 

“I’m going to get going, talk soon?” 

“Talk soon Harry!” 

The last stop was for Harry’s wand. Harry felt like he was stopping himself from running to Ollivander’s. For as long as he could remember he’d wanted a wand. Petunia insisted on getting Lily and James’ wands, they hung in the sitting room no one used save for Harry and Petunia, and only to look at the wands, after he turned nine she’d let Harry hold them from time to time. James’ was snapped down the middle, possibly by Voldemort himself, he had a habit of snapping the wands of the wizards and witches he’d killed. Lily’s was intact, Harry saw her fingerprints all over it when he held it. 

A bell chimed as the trio entered the wand store. There were dusty boxes stacked to the ceiling, some longer than Harry’s arm and some shorter than his index finger to his elbow. From deep within the stacks Harry heard movement. A man approached them, his most prominent features were his silver hair and even more silver eyes. He moved oddly, like a puppet Harry supposed, jerky and focused. 

“Petunia, Vernon,” Ollivander said. “Acadia, Dragon heartstring thirteen and three quarters, reasonably supple. Ebony, unicorn tail hair twelve inches, unyielding. Am I correct?” 

“As you always are,” Petunia said, smiling the way she did when she had little patience for the person they were speaking to’s antics. 

“Harry, I remember your parents wands well,” Ollivander said.

“I know what their wands are made of,” Harry said, before Ollivander could go over the materials. Ollivander nodded, turning to his box collection. 

“I suppose it is time to find a pairing for you then.”

Over the next half hour Harry went through at least twenty wands, but he lost count at eight. With every wand Ollivander seemed to grow happier. He was practically twirling as he grabbed boxes, humming to himself with a smile on his face. Harry tried a holly wand which seemed to explode the moment Harry’s skin made contact with it. He dropped it, the wand rolling under the table. 

“Very interesting,” Ollivander muttered, retrieving the holly wand with a flourish. He went back to the stacks, joyfully smacking the wand back into its box. Harry watched him pull a box and inspect it closely. 

“Does it usually take this long?” Harry whispered, hoping he would be leaving with a wand. His Aunt and Uncle nodded. 

“Dudley was in here for a while too. No need to rush it Harry,” Aunt Petunia said. 

“Hm, maybe,” Ollivander muttered.

He shoved another box into Harry’s hand. This one was different, this one felt right. The moment Harry’s fingers closed around the thin strip of wood his fingers felt warm. He waved it and produced blue sparks. Aunt Petunia and Uncle Vernon gave their congratulations. Ollivander was the only one not smiling.

“Pine wood, phoenix tail feather, twelve and a half inches, reasonably supple,” Ollivander recited. Harry could see him memorizing the information as he spoke it, gears turning in the man’s head. “Very interesting.” 

“What’s interesting sir?” Harry asked. Ollivander reached over, pressing his cold fingers against Harry’s forehead. He slid the hair to the side, running a finger along Harry’s scar. 

“The phoenix that gave that feather gave another, and I made two wands. Your wand’s brother gave you that scar,” Ollivander said. 

Harry shivered, looking down at the wand which had only moments before had been a source of pride. Now it seemed alien and potentially threatening. Harry was about to ask whether he could try finding another wand when Petunia held out the money for it, her lips thin. Vernon guided the group back outside. 

“Harry,” Uncle Vernon said. “Don’t take what that man said too seriously. The wand chooses the wizard, but the wizard chooses what to do with the wand. You are not that man. You will do great things with that wand and its relation to that man’s will not stop you.” 

“I wonder why it picked me,” Harry said, looking at the wand again. He shivered, remembering he could speak to snakes. 

“Perhaps it’s a good thing,” Vernon said. “Maybe it will become as a blessing at some point.” 

“Either way, the wand is yours and yours alone Harry. I wouldn’t go advertising what Ollivander told you, but it isn’t worth losing sleep over,” Petunia said. He nodded, looking down at the wand one more time, before putting it back in the case with a snap. All that was left for Harry to do his best and make the wand his own, regardless of its brother’s dark deeds. 


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A visit to Godric's Hallow and getting an owl!

Godric’s Hallow was cold this time of year. Glass had patterns of frost creeping from the corners, Harry’s breath came out in puffs of smoke, and the trees had put on their fall colors. The entire neighborhood was beautiful. Regardless of its history. Every single time Harry came here, from the first time when Aunt Petunia told him the story as they walked down the street to this time, Harry wondered if he would have liked living here. If You-Know-Who hadn’t tried to kill them, they would likely still be hiding here.

How had the night gone? Voldemort in a cloak, with a barely human form under it, walking the same path Harry walked now toward his old house. Perhaps he twirled his wand as he walked like Harry had gotten in the habit of doing, had he smiled as he prepared to murder James and Lily, or did he frown, or maybe he’d had no expression at all? Had anyone seen him coming down the street? Could someone have warned them and chosen to save themselves instead? What had his parents been doing before he’s shown up? Harry couldn’t imagine. 

The Potter’s old hideout was at the end of the street. Harry had been told they hadn’t lived there, the Potter Family had a manor he would inherit when he passed his OWLs, he’d never seen it outside pictures, it was warded to keep everyone out until he returned as a mature wizard. It was a convenient places to ward against someone as powerful and dark as You-Know-Who, like Number Four Privet Dr had been for the Dursley family. Something about the inherent magic of the earth, something about ley lines, Harry didn’t understand. 

Everyone in the Dursley family was quiet. They would also be visiting their graves, the bodies were buried in the graveyard near the house. Harry remembered Petunia being upset about this for years, she’d wanted Lily buried with their family. Dumbledore had pressed the issue, resulting in James and Lily being buried in the Godric’s Hallow graveyard. Even now she still scowled when it was mentioned.

Harry reached for his Aunt’s hand as he saw the ruin. It was a truly broken building, the roof collapsing, the windows blown out, the left half of the building had been blown away by something unnatural. To this day the house had never been torn down nor repaired. Harry didn’t know if it was to honor his parent’s memory, or if it were impossible.There had been talk of repairing it to make it a museum to teach the future about Voldemort’s reign.

As they got closer the details became clearer. The front door and fence had never been closed, yet everyone seemed to know not to go near it. In front of the house was a plaque, but Harry had read the words explaining the incident so many times he knew the words by heart. His eyes wandered upward to peeling paint, broken wood, shattered glass, and the remaining tiles of roof.

“Do you think it hurt?” Harry asked, eyeing the blacken, jagged, edges of the remaining walls near the nursery. Aunt Petunia squeezed his hand. 

“The Killing Curse doesn’t hurt,” She answered. “From everything everyone has learned about it.” 

“I meant for him,” Harry said. It looked like it must have, the wall was completely gone in the nursery, the floor collapsed, and the remaining wood looked like it had been melted. 

“I hope so,” Aunt Petunia said, looking grim. Neither Dudley or Vernon said anything, they’d waited several steps back to go to the grave.

They didn’t stay at the house long. 

Harry didn’t know who’d picked the patch nor why, he knew Professor Dumbledore had a relative buried her as well, he’d seen the grave a few times, but he’d never thought too deeply about it. 

Harry preferred the graves. They seemed to glow comfortingly in the moonlight. The house had value, it was good to see it, but it always had a malevolent feeling enclosing it. The grave was different, it was made from pearly white stone with beautiful letters carved into it. Harry knelt before it, reading his parents' names several times. Words always came slowly.

“Hey guys,” Harry started lamely. “I’m going to Hogwarts soon. Like you two did.” 

“I’ll take care of him,” Dudley told the stone with as serious a tone as Harry had ever heard him use. Harry smiled at him. 

“I got my wand, it’s pine wood. I think you two would like it. It looks really cool,” Harry said. He held out the wand to the stone, feeling a bit silly. He liked to think his parents knew though, that they could see or sense it. 

“I think I’ll get in Gryffindor like you two did,” Harry said. “Everyone says I will. Aunt Petunia and Uncle Vernon have told me over and over that you’d be proud of me no matter where I go though.” 

“They would,” Petunia insisted. “Lily had friends in all houses, no matter what tie you wear, they love you Harry.” 

“Yeah,” Harry said, nodding. “I’ll come back at some point and tell you how it goes.” 

Harry stood, his eyes staying on the tombstone. His finger ran over the smooth stone, before Harry took a step back. Aunt Petunia took his hand again. Harry gave Dudley a pat on the back as means of thanks. Dudley’s nod told Harry he understood. The four left the graveyard, Harry paused to look over his shoulder once, trying to commit the small graveyard to memory. 

“You ok?” Aunt Petunia asked. Harry nodded, squeezing her hand as they walked. 

“I’m fine,” Harry said, smiling at her to try and reassure her. Aunt Petunia smiled and squeezed his hand. 

As soon as they passed the corner Aunt Petunia turned and Harry had the feeling of being sucked through a thin tube. He’d never liked the feeling of apparition and doubted he ever would. Harry never landed gracefully and this time was no exception. The four reappeared in the apparition point in Diagon Alley rather than at the house. Harry glanced at his Aunt and Uncle’s face, neither of them gave away what they were doing by their expressions. 

“What’re we doing here?” he asked anyways. Uncle Vernon smiled at him, giving him a wink. 

They walked down the street. Not many people were still out at this point. The ones that were ran between shops, tugging along older children for school supplies they’d left too late. School shopping…Harry had a theory. His heart pounded as they approached the magical pet store. 

Harry and Dudley shot each other looks of pure joy. They stepped into the nearly empty shop to the sound of birds tweeting, cats meowing, and sounds Harry couldn’t place. Harry took off toward the owls, Dudley hot on his heels. There were so many owls, eagle owls, barn owls, snowy owls. Many of them jumped and hooted nervously at the sight of two overly excited boys. 

Dudley pointed out one owl in particular. She was a beautiful bird, a snowy owl. Harry reached towards her, her amber eyes judging him. She hooted softly and nipped him, but let him run a finger across her feathers. Dudley did the same, getting a hoot of approval as well as a nip. The owl was so beautiful. 

“This one then?” Uncle Vernon asked, gazing at the owl approvingly. The pair of them nodded, Harry was sure if he tried to speak his voice would squeak. 

“What a gorgeous owl,” Aunt Petunia said, making Harry’s heart skip a beat. She wasn’t the sort of person to like animals. If she approved then this owl must be one of a kind. 

“Come on, let’s look around while they’re paying for her,” Dudley said, dragging Harry around the pet store by the arm. 

Dudley and Harry got stuck on the cat section. The cats purred and rolled to help him scratch them right where they wanted. Harry was enchanted by small animals too, they were so small and soft, until he saw the snake section. 

He walked to the tanks before he knew why, eyeing the colorful reptiles the whole walk like they might explode. Most of them slept with no concern for Harry, but a few eyed Harry with something like curiosity, it was hard to tell how they felt as they didn’t emote like the kittens did. One of them slithered to the edge of the tank and looked at him. 

“Another human, come to gawk at us,” it said, a male voice passing its lips. Harry gulped, pushing his fear down. 

“You came to gawk at me as well,” Harry muttered back. The snake’s tongue flicked out. 

“So it seems. Are you going to bring me home with you? Many have tried,” The snake said. Its jaws opened revealing a coffin shaped mouth, small fangs at the edges. “I am known   
to bite though.” 

“No,” Harry said. He didn’t know what he was doing here, honestly. He couldn’t seem to move under the snake’s gaze though. 

“Harry?” Dudley asked. Harry turned with a yell of shock to his cousin. Dudley was pale as he looked at him. Harry glanced around but he didn’t think anyone else had seen. 

“Did you see?” Harry asked, urgently. Dudley nodded, his mouth open stupidly. Harry bit his lip. “Can I convince you not to tell anyone?” 

“Harry, you’re a parceltongue?” Dudley asked. 

“No! Well-I mean-. Yes!” Harry said. “I don’t do it much though, I’m not like him.” 

“Harry, you should tell someone. You-Know-Who was a parceltongue as well,” Dudley said. “He might have...passed it onto you or something.” 

“Well, if he did then it's my power now,” Harry said, remembering his Aunt and Uncle’s words about his wand. They didn’t convince Dudley. Harry kept going. “It isn’t! It’s not his, my power. I can do with it as I please. I don’t want people talking though.” 

“Alright,” Dudley said. “I won’t tell anyone. If it begins, I don’t know, hurting you or something, the deal’s off!”


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Time to go on the train and to Hogwarts!

“Here we are,” Vernon said. “Platform Nine and Three Quarters.” 

The platform was magically created between two regular train stops, only Hogwarts students and the people seeing them off were able to get past the barrier. The barrier had been erected during the founder’s time, according to Hermione, during a turbulent few years. Its job was to prevent enemy witches and wizards from attacking the train, students, and their families. 

The train station didn’t just have trains. It was filled with trains, floos, and apparition points. Some witches and wizards who didn’t like floo or couldn’t apparate took the trains instead of brooms. Harry had taken trains when Aunt Petunia and Uncle Vernon took him and Dudley to other parts of the country. 

“So we have to run at the barrier?” Harry asked, eyeing the barrier. 

It looked like a stone wall, completely unremarkable. People paused to watch the Dursleys, nostalgic smiles on their faces as they watched Harry and Dudley in their shiny new Hogwarts robes preparing to cross the barrier the first time. A few of them seemed to recognize Aunt Petunia and Uncle Vernon, waving or stopping them for a chat his Aunt and Uncle had to refuse as Dudley made them late when he’d been unable to find his wand, of all things!

“Yes sir,” Uncle Vernon said with a silly grin. His big mustache made him hard to take seriously. Harry didn’t know what to think. He was fairly sure this was a prank, a way to haze the new students, by making them run straight into a wall. 

Dudley didn’t see it that way though, apparently. His face scrunched up as he eyed the stone. Harry flinched when he took off, running full speed at the wall. His cart gained momentum. Harry prepared for the inevitable crash and Dudley’s cry of pain. It never came. Dudley vanished. Harry’s mouth fell open, looking between his Aunt and Uncle who were giggling like little kids at his expression. Harry set his jaw and looked at the barrier, tightening his grip on his cart. 

“Might want to take it at a run Harry,” Uncle Vernon said. “Seeing as you’re nervous and all.” 

“I’m not nervous,” Harry muttered, but took the advice. 

He closed his eyes so he didn’t see the barrier coming. He hoped he wasn’t going to run into anyone. Thankfully Harry didn’t think this would be the case. His feet propelled him without pause. Harry felt himself pass through something, like the feeling of walking through cloth. 

Harry opened them again and saw smoke. The platform had the old steam train right next to it. People walked through the smoke, in and out of view. Students in robes hugging and kissing their family goodbye, or looking for their friends, parents talking to each other, chasing their kids, or kissing them goodbye, several drying their eyes. Dudley had already found the Weasleys and was enlisting Percy’s help in getting his trunk onto the train. Harry walked over, deciding he’d get in on that. 

“Harry!” Ron yelled over. “You guys are late!” 

“Dudley forgot his wand and we had to go back for it and almost had to go back a third time for our owl. Uncle Vernon has her. We named her Hedwig,” Harry explained. Ron wrinkled his nose. 

“Wow. Somehow no one forgot anything this year. I was sure it would be me as well,” Ron said.

“Hey Harry,” Fred said, looking him from head to toe. “Aw, he’s gotten so big, hasn’t he Georgie?” 

“Look at you! Looking all grown up in your robes,” George said, in a dumb imitation of a crying mother.

“Soon he’ll be taking his OWLs and going off to get a job,” Fred said, wiping an imaginary tear from his eye.

“Did you two actually mess with Ginny’s robes?” Harry asked, if only to make them stop. 

“They still smell!” Ginny whined. Mrs. Weasley shot the twins a nasty glare that made even Harry and Ron wince. 

“I will have no trouble making from either of you this year, one notice from any teacher and you two will be coming straight home,” She threatened. Though her expression turned to a sweet smile when she turned her attention to Harry. “No trouble getting on the platform dear?”

“None at all Molly,” Petunia said. “Think you’ll be able to come in tomorrow? We might need some extra help with a difficult property.” 

“Oh of course,” Molly said, putting a hand on Petunia’s shoulder. “Arthur couldn’t be here, sadly. Ministry’s making him come in to help with a teapot that gave some poor dear’s tongue warts.” 

“Oh my,” Petunia said. 

“Come here Harry,” Uncle Vernon said, guiding him to the train. A loud whistle made everyone jump.

Uncle Vernon helped Harry get his trunk onto the train instead, lifting it with a huff. Aunt Petunia joined them to say goodbye, looking over Harry and Dudley with smiles. Several feet away Ron was trying to escape his mother trying to fix his hair while Ginny watched with an innocent smile. 

Loads of parents and children were pointing and staring at him. Many not bothering to conceal their whispers about his scar. Harry felt a bit awkward, he never liked people staring at him. Dudley puffed up his chest and glared in the onlookers general direction as if that helped. Aunt Petunia reached out and messed up his hair, Harry let her, though they both knew his hair didn’t need anymore messing up.

“Well, send us letters. We expect one a week at the minimum,” Aunt Petunia said. 

“We want to know how classes are going as well. Make sure you show up all these ninnies, you two are gifted young men and we won’t have you throwing that away,” Uncle Vernon stated, eyeing the people pointing and staring at Harry. Harry and Dudley laughed while Aunt Petunia gave him a scandalized look.

“And be good, we don’t want to hear about you two get into any trouble,” Aunt Petunia scolded. Harry nodded. 

“Of course, of course,” Dudley said, nodding like a bobble head. He must have thought his expression was innocent, Harry knew better. So did his Aunt and Uncle, judging by the looks they gave each other.

“You know us, we never get much attention,” Harry said. Aunt Petunia smiled and gave his hair another ruffle.

“Bye Mom, bye Dad,” Dudley said, leaning up to kiss both his parents on the cheek. Ron got away and managed to get onto the train before his mother could catch him.   
Harry leaned up and kissed his Aunt and Uncle on the cheeks before climbing on himself after Ron. He felt a bit weird, saying goodbye to them the way Dudley had, they didn’t insist on it either. Harry followed Ron and Dudley down the train, looking for Hermione in the compartments.

Harry paused to wave at Theo. Theo grinned and waved back, but went back to talking to some of his friends, without saying hi. Harry recognized Pansy and Blaise, but Harry didn’t know them well enough to pause and say hi. He jogged to catch back up to Dudley and Ron who were talking about the latest professional Quidditch match. Soon enough they found the bushy brown head bent over a book in a compartment.

“There you are,” Dudley said. Harry paused at the doorway, noticing a boy sitting with her, toad in hand. 

“Hey guys,” Hermione greeted. “This is Neville, he was willing to share his compartment.” 

“Hey Neville,” Harry said, holding his hand out. Neville’s mouth opened slightly, eyes flicking up to Harry’s forehead. Harry’s smile became strained. 

“Yep,” Dudley said. He was shoving Ron’s trunk into the compartment overhead. “That’s Harry Potter. Yes, he has a bit of jam from breakfast on his face still. My cousin likes to arrive in style, what can I say?”

“You didn’t tell me!” Harry said, trying to wipe it off and hide his blush. “Git!”

“Hey Neville, I think I’ve seen you ‘round Diagon before,” Ron said. “Does your Gran wear a big hat with a bird on it?” 

“Oh yeah,” Dudley said, grinning brightly at him. “Longbottom right? I think your Gran had my Mom ward your house.” 

“Probably,” Neville squeaked. 

“Ah, nice to meet you Neville,” Dudley said, putting his hand out. “Don’t worry about Harry, he’s not all he’s cracked up to be when you get to know him.” 

“Yeah, I’m not worth staring at,” Harry said, smiling at the boy. 

“I-I see,” Neville said, looking back at his toad. Harry pulled a book out of his bag before Dudley shoved his next to Ron’s. Dudley smacked him on the arm and nodded at Neville. Harry sighed, but nodded. Dudley had always been better at making friends for a reason. 

“Are you excited to be going to Hogwarts?” Harry asked. 

Neville jumped, his toad leapt from his hand and he had crawl under the chairs to catch it. Ron shook his head at Harry, who shrugged. Hermione was too busy with her book to notice, and Dudley was still trying to get his trunk in place. Harry and Ron bent down to help, but Neville came back out, toad in hand, blond hair jutting out at all angles.

“I-uh-yeah. Yeah I’m excited,” Neville said. “Are you? I mean, I’m sure you’ve been a few times.” 

“Nope, we’ve met a few of the Professors though,” Dudley said. Neville nodded, biting his lip. He ran a finger over the toad’s head, it looked indignant as a toad could look.

“What’s your toad’s name?” Ron asked, trying to sound excited. Harry could hear the lack of interest in his voice though.

“Trevor.” 

“Good name,” Dudley said, taking a seat next to Ron. “Is he an old toad?”

“I don’t know, my Uncle got him for me.” 

“Oh cool, my Uncle got me and Dudley an owl,” Harry said, brightly. 

“I’ve got a rat, his name is Scabbers,” Ron said, pulling the rat out of his pocket. Thankfully Scabbers was sleeping, Harry still slid away from him, deciding not to test how tired he   
was. 

“You don’t like him Harry?” Neville asked. “Don’t like rats?” 

“Nope, Scabbers hates me,” Harry said, keeping an eye on the sleeping animal. He pulled his eyes away to give Hedwig a pet. She hooted at him, amber eyes wide. 

“What?” 

“Scabbers would bite Harry’s finger off if he could,” Ron explained. “No idea why.” 

“Maybe he secretly loves me and wants my hand to match his,” Harry deadpanned. 

“Oh?” Neville asked. Ron held the rat out, extending his paw so Neville could see the missing finger. Neville’s eyes widened. “Wicked.” 

“Our owl is Hedwig,” Dudley said, nodding at her. “You play Quidditch Neville?” 

“No, I’m a rubbish flyer,” Neville said, leaning back in his seat. Dudley nodded, moving his attention to the window. 

“Same with me! It’ll be nice to take the flying class with you, Neville. These three ditched me,” Hermione chirped. 

Before Neville could answer, the whistle sounded again, and the train rumbled under them. Harry and Dudley waved goodbye to Uncle Vernon and Aunt Petunia. He watched them until the station was out of sight before relaxing. Harry let himself sit back in the seat, trying to make himself comfortable. It would be a long ride.

Harry woke with Dudley shaking his shoulder. He didn’t remember falling asleep, but he was sure his dreams hadn’t been nice. He didn’t remember them in more than the feeling of tension. The train had stopped. He looked around the compartment to see that the others were standing right outside. Neville had stuck around the whole trip, Harry felt like a bit of a git for not staying away to chat. He stood, trying to move his glasses back into place. 

“Sorry,” Harry said, feeling his face going red. “Are we there?” 

“Yep,” Dudley said, snickering at his confusion. 

“Missed the whole ride mate,” Ron added. “Must have had some weird dreams, you kept muttering to yourself about stones and blood.” 

“Harry, did you not sleep last night,” Hermione said. “You should know better, you’ll be tired during the ceremony!”

“I’ll be fine!” Harry said. He stepped into the hallway and the group began running to get out of the train and catch up to their year-mates. “I’m feeling completely awake now! I promise. I swear.” 

“Harry,” Neville said. Harry paused, Neville handed him several small seeds. Harry took them, unsure of what Neville wanted him to do. “I grew them in my family’s greenhouse.   
They'll wake you up, basically.” 

“Oh,” Harry said, popping one of them in his mouth. The effect was instant, like a switch in his brain moved to on. Harry pocketed the other two, deciding he probably didn’t want to risk staying up all night due to them. 

“Thank you Neville, you’re good at herbology then?” Harry asked. Neville blushed. 

“That’s cool, I couldn’t grow any plants. Haven’t gotten much patience for plants. My Dad and Harry grow potions ingredients all the time though,” Dudley explained. Neville nodded, his face going as red as Ron’s hair. 

“Sorry if I was being condescending,” He muttered to Harry. Harry bumped his shoulder against Neville’s. 

“No worries mate, I don’t know every plant. I’m not great at herbology or anything.” 

“Oh,” Neville said. “I could help you sometime, if you need help in class or something.” 

“Sure, I’ll keep you in mind,” Harry said, smiling at him. He supposed he shouldn’t have, it looked like steam was about to start coming out of the boy’s ears.

Hagrid led the first years to the lake around Hogwarts. He told them to go four to a boat. Harry got in one with Ron, Dudley, and Neville, whereas Hermione got in with some of her friends from primary school. The moment everyone was situated, every single boat began moving forward. Harry kept his eyes where he knew Hogwarts would be. No one in the boat spoke.

Harry felt a jolt when the castle came into view. His mouth seemed to fall open with no chance of Harry closing it anytime soon. The stone building seemed to glow. The lights reflected on the water of the lake’s surface almost perfectly in the still water. Harry kept his eyes on the castle. He only looked away when Dudley punched him on the leg. Harry glanced at him. Dudley smiled, and nodded at the castle like he’d never been so excited. 

“Wicked? Isn’t it?” Ron asked, no one in particular. He glanced around at the group in the boat, his face reddening like he had said something embarrassing, but Harry couldn’t think of a better way to sum it up. 

**Author's Note:**

> I hope you enjoyed the first chapter!


End file.
